


Knock, knock

by Anonymous



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bellarke Kink Meme, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, POV Clarke Griffin, Porn With (Some) Plot/Porn With (Some) Feelings, Prompts: I didn’t know I would write until I did, Sex Demon Bellamy Blake, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-19
Updated: 2020-01-19
Packaged: 2021-02-27 05:42:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,405
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22322002
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: .“How come we have never met before?”He shrugs. “You never called me before.”Called? It’s not like she knows his number. How could she? They’ve never met. Right? She would remember a stranger this hot, with his expressive eyes and the pretty freckles - just like the ones - that grace him. Her confusion must show, because the skin around his eyes crinkle for a moment, so brief that the expression is gone without a trace as if she just imagined it. His face lights up with a smile like she said something funny.“You still haven’t figured that out, have you?”-ORClarke summons Bellamy for sex.
Relationships: Bellamy Blake/Clarke Griffin
Comments: 24
Kudos: 216
Collections: Anonymous, The 100 Kinkmeme Round 2020





	Knock, knock

**Author's Note:**

> Based on the prompt;
> 
> Clarke has been in a dry spell since breaking up with Finn for a few months. One night she’s masturbating but she cannot seem to finish no matter what she does so she starts fantasizing and praying for somebody with a huge dick to come in and fuck her. Queue in sex demon Bellamy being summoned into her bedroom ...
> 
> -
> 
> THE POSSIBILITIES ARE ENDLESS

Clarke is in kind of a dry spell.

It’s not like she consciously chose this, but she did need the time to heal.

She did go out and did meet new people, even dated but none of that really led anywhere beyond lukewarm kissing. When her friend, Harper, reminds her _‘the best way to get over someone is to get under someone’_ (wink) she knows she means the best for her but what’s hard to explain to her or anyone is this: The crushing reality of Finn cheating _on her_ and _with her_ made her lose faith in humanity in general, romantically speaking. She cannot love without trust. For her to be with someone, sexually, she needs to trust. And she cannot recover that faith in people until she’s healed. 

It doesn’t mean she doesn’t crave the sex. She does. As such, she is left to her own devices. And it’s gratifying more or less.

Today however something is off.

Clarke’s been going at it for what feels like an hour. She started with her panties and a top on, no bra. 

Her usual routine involves a warm bed with soft sheets and comfy pillows, Clarke laying back on her back (or stomach, depending on how desperate she is) as one hand roams over her skin sensually, at a leisurely pace. Starting at her stomach, then moving up and up, around and over her tits, softly at first. There’s no rush, she is taking her time. Just a nice and easy stimulation, working herself up slowly. Her top is already rucked up today to her chin to give her better access as she plucks on her nipples, alternating between the left and the right, rolling those rosy buds between her fingers. Getting them sensitive and hard. _That_ doesn’t take her long. 

Her other hand joins in when she starts feeling loose, ready for more action; when she’s massaging her tits with intent behind it, making her back arch off the bed on its own accord.

As her breathing is speeding up, she is ready for more. 

She pulls the top over her head and throws it away, before wiggling back down between her pillows, twisting her hips in search for a comfortable position for what is about to come next. She slips a hand in her panties; one touch against her slit confirms she is not completely wet yet, however the teasing touches she gives herself should get her there in no time. 

To think that she would be still fucking Finn right now - if she hadn’t found out about his mistress (the other woman he swore he was broken up with before he lured Clarke into his bed); if she hadn’t ended things with him, hadn’t he made her complicit in his cheating shenanigans - is a ridiculous idea.

She doesn’t need him. Not even for sex. She got this.

With her top already gone, she pulls down her panties, until it hangs around an ankle and she can kick them off.

She starts slowly. One hand still teasing a nipple, whilst she rubs circles around her clit, dipping her fingers further down and probing her entrance. 

A few more of these tried teasing touches and she knows, soon, she is going to feel that tingly sensation of warmth spreading all over her body. She really wants to rub one out before she lets her fingers slip inside. 

She rubs and rubs and teases and she is so close .... but the feeling slips away and no matter how desperately she tries to get there again, the explosion she is waiting for never comes.

It’s annoying, but okay.

She widens her legs and slips one, then two fingers between her folds. For good measure she adds a third.

It feels pleasant to be filled; her fingers slip in and out easily, she takes it as a good sign. It feels good. She will get there.

She lets her thumb tease her clit - adding some extra pressure as the delicious signs of that rush before an orgasm runs through her - keeping her on the edge. 

She is so close. 

Her earlier optimism starts to fade quickly. The feeling of rush is gone just as rapidly as it came; nothing seems to help and push her through. 

The aching absence of her orgasm puts her on edge. So this is one of those days.

She sighs heavily. 

Maybe it’s because she’s been touch starved for so long that her body has become immune to her own touch; her own fingers on her skin and her fingers inside her doesn’t seem to be enough, regardless of her excellent technique.

To think that she could be fucking Finn if she called him is a horrible idea but beggars can’t be choosers... a weak orgasm is still better than none.

She groans in annoyance. That’s just honestly the stupidest idea. 

She turns on her stomach and buries her face under one of the pillows in frustration. Fuck it - it’s her room, her apartment. She kicks her legs and arms and screams into her sheets like a child.

_“Fuck. Finn. Collins. Honestly.”_

It’s all his fault.

Even if, technically, Clarke chose to kick his cheating ass to the curb. He cheated. He turned her into this - this - mess. It’s his fault that she‘s not getting to make herself come when she needs one. 

*

She doesn’t know how long she is like this, it’s not like she set up a timer.

What makes her leave the bed eventually is the sound of determined knocks on her door.

She grabs for her robe to cover herself and stomps her way out of the bedroom, all the way to the door to her apartment. She jerks angrily on the knob and kicks her door open without thinking.

She is angry. And frustrated, sexually and otherwise, and she doesn’t care if it is the Pope himself on the other side, she’s gonna tell them to piss off.

On the other end of the door is a man leaning against her doorframe, dressed in black, his dark henley rolled up to his elbows showing off endless tan skin. His inky curls are cut shorter but that does nothing to tame them. His face is peppered with freckles, which - would she be given the time - she could map for ages.

He is, positively, the most beautiful man she’s ever met. 

He pushes himself away from the door and she sees his mouth move before she realizes he is talking to her.

“Well, hello there, _beautiful.”_

She closes her mouth. 

“You kept me waiting long enough.”

It’s possible she has been gaping at him ever since she laid eyes on his arms. She blinks rapidly in an attempt to save face and recover, and she blurts the first thing that comes to her mind.

“Who are you?”

His lips twitch. “Is that really the most important question, love?”

She crosses her arms in front of her chest. “Who are you?”

“I’m the man of your dreams.”

Clarke huffs out a laugh. He is smooth. “Oh really.”

He waggles his eyebrows teasingly then raises a hand, palm turned in her direction, bending his pinky and thumb. “Scout’s honour.”

She purses her lips. “In that case... I’m a Queen.”

He looks her up and down from head to toe, then toe to head. She swears she sees fire in his eyes for a moment. But it’s so brief, she must have imagined it. She scrambles to pull on her robe, holding it tighter around her so nothing is revealed. The beautiful stranger watches the movement with an amused expression as if he knows perfectly well what she has (or rather not has) under her dressing robe and answers with an appreciative but contained smirk. 

“That you are.”

She moves her weight from one leg to the other. 

“Who are you?”

“You’re a stickler for names, aren’t you?” He points a finger towards her. “You know, it’s awfully rude to talk to someone and not inviting them in.”

He is infuriating. Hot but infuriating.

“You’re a stranger. Why would I let you in —“

“Your name is Clarke, and -“ he sticks his hand out,” you can call me Bellamy. Nice to meet you, Clarke. There. We are not strangers anymore.”

His hand is warm and big. So big it swallows hers completely as he takes it and gives her a gentle squeeze.

“How did you --?“

“The better question is, Clarke, why you keep stalling,” he muses. “I can think of a few other things we could be doing right now.”

His voice is dangerously low and suggestive - and his !! eyes !! - doing delicious things to her lady parts.

“I don’t think -“

He leans his body forward and presses his fingers against her lips.

 _“Shhhhh._ Don’t. Think. It’s a gift. I’m here to give you anything you want - - ending in orgasms.”

She almost chokes on a breath and she feels her face heating up.

He must be a hot neighbour then, someone who’s sharing a wall with her bedroom and overheard her trying to pleasure herself but having troubles.

“Knock, knock.”

“Who - is it?” she asks meekly, twisting her eyebrows in confusion.

“Your destiny,” he says, voice deep and rough and rumbling, making her shiver. She takes a step back, and the next thing she knows he has already stepped into her apartment in one stride, simultaneously closing the door behind them. By the time he places his huge palms on her shoulders covered by the robe, he is facing her fully with very little distance between them. His warm palms move up and down her biceps through the robe, passing some of his heat onto her muscles. His touch is electrifying. It feels good on her skin. Too good. His gaze never leaves hers, practically anchoring her to the spot as he watches her intently. 

His dark eyes look hungry. Hungry for her. “It’s time to get fucked.”

All Clarke can do is nod.

*

They haven’t reached her bedroom door yet when Clarke finds herself pressed up against a wall and he slams his lips onto hers, kissing her. He doesn’t kiss like she expected. It’s not a particularly hot kiss, not even deep at first, more of an exploring kind. The one which starts with trading kisses with a closed mouth. Her arms find their way around his neck, and she parts her lips slightly. Only then does his tongue lick against her lips, slipping inside, on a quest to explore her mouth. It brushes against her tongue, her teeth, the roof of her mouth; easing her into kissing more urgently and developing the kiss into something more demanding bit by bit. She gives as good as she gets.

Her heart is hammering from the anticipation as his tongue battles her own, at the same time, his hands explore her body. Her robe is still on, miraculously, and yet the thin material does nothing against the way his hands make her feel; burning through the barrier between their skin as they glide against her ribcage or the side of her breast or when they traverse down to the curve of her ass and he squeezes her flesh.

He is good. Hot neighbour knows how to impress a woman and they’ve only been kissing so far. She wants this, whatever this might be - a quick fuck or Bellamy going down on her, maybe, anything really - she wants whatever he is willing to give. She is so desperate for him already.

By the time they reach her bedroom, she is panting heavily and her robe is gone. She doesn’t remember when he pulled on the tie of robe - or was it her? - keeping it in place, but her skin feels so hot from the anticipation already, maybe it burned away or turned to dust, leaving her naked. What surprises her more when she opens her eyes and looks at him that most of his clothes are gone, too. 

Two thoughts cross her mind. One, _‘When did that happen?’_ And also, _‘Good riddance’._

“I agree,” he chuckles against her neck, sucking at her pulse point.

“Did I say that out loud?”

“You did. Don’t worry about it. We were bound to get naked sooner or later.”

Her breath hitches. It’s not like she hasn’t been aware of what is going to happen between them, but she feels like she has to pinch herself to check if she is really awake. After the day she had, she wouldn’t be surprised if she’d find herself passed out on the bed, under the pillows, after crying herself raw and having cried herself into sleep. It’s quite possible that kissing a hot stranger with this much heat and want is just an image conjured up by her exhausted mind. He’d practically showed up at her doorstep out of thin air.

“You’re thinking too much,” he whispers against the shell of her ear, bringing her back to the present. As his big hand cups her cunt it makes her jump.

She feels mortified. She must look one too, as the shame sets in and she can feel her cheeks turn red. Now she’s ruined the moment, hasn’t she? He’ll leave. 

“I’m so sorry. It was - unexpected.”

He has an amused expression on his face as he considers her.

“I know you had sex before, _Clarke.”_

“I’m honestly not sure about that anymore,” she mumbles. It’s a confession that’s been a long time coming, even to herself. She broke up with Finn a year ago. She hadn’t been intimate with anyone like this ever since, not counting her own hands. And it was fine. Now, being here with another person alone on the verge of having sex, and reacting to his touch down there like she’s been slapped... she’s not so sure ‘it’ or she has been really fine anymore. 

He takes a step closer and brushes a thumb against her cheek, then bottom lip.

“Hey, no rush. We’ll take it slow if that’s what you want.”

She nods. But - “Will you still fuck me? Even if I’m jumpy like this?”

The corners of his mouth twist into a smirk, eyes glinting dark.

“Oh, sweet thing. I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

She steps back into his embrace, winding her hands together behind his back, holding him tight. The motion might have surprised him for a moment because he doesn’t react instantly. Her worry is unfounded. Soon, he embraces her in his arms and he holds her there, caressing her back, drawing lines and a string of circles into her skin, making it tingle. Burying his face in the crook of her neck, breathing deeply, otherwise, he is utterly still.

She feels relaxed in no time.

She thinks, she could get used to this.

His touch is so delicate and calming now. Of course, she wonders if he can use his hands for something else too, say something more urgent and more punishing when she doesn’t want to feel delicate anymore; if she were to crave a lover’s touch more.

She feels something hard against her stomach and she realizes he is hard.

It feels good to feel wanted. 

The thought puts a smile on her face. It’s also a good opening to carry on whatever they started earlier, now that she feels more like herself. She untangles her hands, pushing herself back a little to look him in the eye and reaches for his hand. She guides him back there, down to her entrance, letting him feel her building wetness. Letting him feel her, and not stopping him when he has his fingers brush against her clit or when he cups her mound. Letting him continue where he stooped before she jerked away.

Her heart is in her throat as she speaks. 

“I think I’m ready. Would you just - - I mean, if you don’t mind.”

Thankfully, he gets the message and nods once. Wasting no more time, he presses his thumb against her clit and dips his head to run his nose along the side of neck, on top of her breasts, breathing heavily against her skin, peppering her with small bites and kisses.

“I’ve got you.”

She lets her head fall back a little, hands limp beside her, enjoying the sensations he gives her. It doesn’t take long until she feels charged, buzzing with the earlier excitement of when he was kissing her deeply, and she cannot repress her need to reciprocate his touches. She lifts her hands and places them on his broad shoulders, letting them move and traverse down his back and explore his muscles as his fingers and mouth relentlessly work on her body.

She is so worked up already.

She is sopping wet and whimpering by the time he slips a finger through her folds.

“How does that feel?” He says with a low, almost whispering tone.

She hums in response. _“‘S good.”_

His sole finger is thicker than hers, so when he starts pushing into her, it feels more of a stretch, making her whimper. “Oh, God.”

 _“Not a God,”_ he says, barely audible; she thinks maybe she imagined it.

He pushes another finger into her which makes her yelp ‘ow’ in surprise but she doesn’t jump away. Oh no, she welcomes the feeling.

His thumb presses on her clit, which eases the added pressure of the second finger; but maybe just for the sake of getting her off sooner. His mouth finds her ears, biting on her earlobe once first before he catches the skin between his teeth. He worries the skin there with his lips and teeth, nibbling on it like he has all the time in the world. His hot breath on her skin makes goosebumps erupt on her neck and down her spine.

“If you’re this jumpy from just the two fingers, I’ve gotta tie you to that bed before I fuck you, “he says, his voice laced with darkness and honey.” Don’t wanna brag but my cock is kind of a beast.”

She shakes with uncontrollable laughter when she realizes what he is telling her, leaning her forehead against his shoulder. 

“Hate to break it you, mister, but it’s literally the opposite of ‘not bragging’.” 

He bites her chin and pulls his fingers out before pushing them back in deeper. They go in smoothly. 

“Is it now?”

 _“Shhhh_ \- shut up. The size of your cock won’t scare me. In fact, “and she drops a kiss on his neck, digging her fingers into the meat of his ass, leaving the crescent imprints of her nails there, which he retaliates with curling his fingers inside her, reaching a sweet point inside her, making her cry out. She is so close now.

Then, as if nothing has happened he breathes hotly against her ear. “In fact?”

Clarke feels she’s gonna combust. She cannot think straight when he is playing her body - as if it were an instrument - like an expert, and on top of that, he is fun to be with, too.

“In fact, you’re a big guy. Muscle-y with wide shoulders and all. If your cock is not the size of zucchini - I’d be disappointed.” She’s being a brat now and she knows it. “It’s hard to tell when I cannot have a good look at it.”

He huffs out a laugh. In response, he crooks his fingers again, more wickedly this time, and as she pants into the junction of his neck, he rubs her relentlessly, increasing the pressure on her clit. Sending her over the edge without a real effort.

He is hoarse when he says, “Hope your bravado is just as big as your mouth.”

She feels her legs giving in after that and if he weren’t there to catch her, she’d find herself fall, landing on the floor. But he is there with her and he does catch her, sweeping her up in the cradle of his arms, steady and strong, and before she can say anything, he carries her to the bed. 

*

Clarke thinks that losing her balance after Bellamy sent her over the edge is a minor mishap on her side. Bellamy, on the other hand, looks smug, he is glowing with pride and smiling stupidly to himself as he watches the ceiling aimlessly and waits for her to recover.

Under different circumstances, like if they were seeing each other, she’d pat his chest and tell him _‘good job, bud, you made the girl come now cut it’._

But they are not dating. He is more of a godsend. And now that she had a taste, she wants to have more.

When she deems her body has regained enough of its strength, she sighs and pushes herself up on her elbows. He turns his head at the sound and mirrors her position.

“How come we have never met before?”

He shrugs. “You never called me before.”

Called? It’s not like she knows his number. How could she? They’ve never met. Right? She would remember a stranger this hot, with his expressive eyes and the pretty freckles just like the ones that grace him.

Her confusion must show, because the skin around his eyes crinkle for a moment, so brief that the expression is gone without a trace as if she just imagined it. His face lights up with a smile like she said something funny. 

He rolls onto his stomach, their bodies aligned now, with little to none distance between them. He supports his weight on his elbows, making his biceps stretch nicely. Even when he reaches over and starts his assault; idly tracing the swell of her breast next to him with a finger, before moving onto her nipple in a circling pattern, getting closer and closer to the tip as he keeps drawing a few circles around it. His lips twitch as he watches her nipple harden under his touch. He plucks on the hard nub with three fingers, knowing well what it does it to her, since he can hear the change in her breathing. When he drops his hand, he turns his head to look her in the eye. 

“You still haven’t figured that out, have you?”

“Figured out what?”

“You summoned me. I’m here to grant your wishes.”

“You grant wishes. What? Like a genie?”

He huffs out a laugh and rolls back on his back, returning to his previous fascinating task of staring at the ceiling. 

“No. I’m _not a genie,_ Clarke.”

He sighs, rubbing a palm against his face, considering his words carefully before he turns again to look back at her. 

“I’m a demon, Clarke. Son to a human mother and to a _diwata,_ a God for a father. A direct descendant to _Malandok,_ an ancient war god. The life of my kind isn’t all sunshine and rainbows - my mother had become an outcast for having a second child after me and, as you can guess, my sister was not my father’s... so yeah, I have an area of expertise, you could say a job of sorts. But _I am_ a demon instead of being a demi-god like I was born to. You summoned me, and so - here I am.” 

His lips twist up in a smile as he rolls over her, hands braced on the bed on both sides of her head, effectively caging her. “Though I’ve gotta tell you, this is not gonna be such a hardship for me. More like a perk, not a job. You’re hot.”

She erupts in a fit of tiny giggles. “I bet you tell that to all the girls. And the boys.”

He sighs and levels her with a more serious gaze, his tone missing the earlier teasing edge “not really. I don’t have to like them, or find them attractive. Once someone has summoned me, a contract is made and - I just - you know, there to - - perform. Give them their deepest desires.”

Her heart rate speeds up as she thinks about his words. Does that make her special? 

“Why are you telling me all of this?”

“Because. I feel like you have to hear this,” he leans down and presses his lips between her eyebrows. Then on her nose before capturing her mouth in a searing kiss. “Your body deserves to be worshipped. _You_ -“ planting a kiss lower, on her neck, on top of her breasts, kissing each one of her nipples, rolling his tongue around them and making them wet. When he is satisfied with his work, he continues his sweet torment of peppering kisses on her body, making her skin tingle wherever his hot kisses touch her.” _You_ deserve to be worshipped. Also,“ he lifts his head to grin at her,” you’re hot as fuck. I can do this all night long, baby.”

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Okay, I believe that you are what you say you are. It’s a lot to wrap my head around still, but - you look real to me,” she frowns.

 _“I am real,”_ he says, and a faint halo of crackling fire appears around his head. This is the first time his voice sounds otherworldly to her, his otherwise naturally deep voice echoes; it is clear he does not accept any opposing argument on the matter. 

Then, the fire is gone, and his features soften, his eyes are shining with what appears to be mischief to her.

“However, if that makes you feel easier around me.... sure, think of me as a genie. I grant your wishes, but exclusively the sexual kind. And,” he looks at her suggestively, the earlier lustful, teasing look back in his gaze,” if you rub me down there, I -“

“Oh, shut up and fuck me already.” Then she adds ‘please’ because he looks at her in an intense kind of way, that is hard to decipher. She’s worried that she’d said something he didn’t bargain for. The way he looks at her is dark and dangerous, true, but, deep down she admits, something she wouldn’t mind to see more. 

He swallows slowly, drawing her attention away from his eyes, down to the bob of his throat. To the place where his neck meets his shoulders. A piece of him that appears so hard yet so soft, she decides, it’s a spot she wants to taste soon.

And she doesn’t have to wait for too long because he moves first, descending down on her and kissing her roughly. 

“I’m gonna fuck you so good. Slow and deep, like you deserve. Like a Queen,” he murmurs hotly against her mouth.

She squirms, putting her hands on his shoulders, making him look at her. “No. Take. Me.”

A predatory smirk makes its way to his features, flashing some teeth.

“Your wish, my command.”

He ducks his head and claims her mouth in a more aggressive fashion this time, sinking his weight down on her; he is so close that her nipples are grazing his chest and the skin on skin contact works them back into peaks without him actually teasing them. 

She groans appreciatively, overcome by the want so much, he has to know how much she wants him. She wants him badly.

His hands have roamed to her waist from her neck and are gripping her hips now, still softer than she wants them to. As his hands travel lower on her body, she holds onto his back muscles, practically clutching onto him with her nails. It just feels so good to be covered by his warm body, and feel his weight; if he let himself relax and fall on top of her, he’d crush her. Still, she feels so safe and so wanted. As they keep trading hungry kisses, one of his hands glides further down, towards the curve of her ass, settling his palm flat on her asscheeks and pulls her closer. 

It’s the feel of his cock nudging against her soft belly and smearing pre-cum over the skin there that makes her slow down and pull away.

“Wait,” she makes him stop, pushing a hand against his chest. His eyes are dark like coal but he complies and slows down. “We should probably talk about some rules.”

He gives her an unimpressed look.

“You’re a stickler for rules, too, aren’t you?” He asks, unamused and a beat passes. He lets out a sigh. “If you’re worried about pregnancy, you shouldn’t. I cannot have children until I decide to retire and settle. But if you’d feel more comfortable using a condom - we can compromise.”

She considers his words. The idea of riding him bare and feel everything is too tempting. She is too horny to say ‘no’. So she decides she’ll tackle this decision later, when they get there.

She offers him a small nod and he continues.

“As for the other thing... you have to trust me on this and believe me when I say I’m clean, I’m telling the truth. Superior immortal blood, or something.”

“Or something?”

“I won’t make you sick, don’t worry.”

He could lie of course. 

But he’s confessed the truth about himself, which, she still has a hard time to believe, or even grasp what it means beyond being an immortal - is he? really? - and dropping by a stranger’s house when he is being summoned.

“Okay. I believe you.”

His concern is oddly sweet, and good to have it out of the way but she meant to ask something else, too.

“But what I also meant to say is something else.”

He gives her a small nod to go ahead and expand on it.

“I meant that I might seem like a delicate human to you, which I suppose I am in some way, but ... I don’t want you to hold back when you squeeze my tits or pull on my hair, or _somethinglikethat.”_

His eyes glint but it’s gone quickly. “Noted. Dirty talk?” 

Clarke swallows. She wasn’t a particular fan of it with Finn, mostly, because whenever they tried to give it a go, sex didn’t feel like them. With Bellamy? She’d lie if she said the prospect of letting him run his mouth didn’t make her excited, like trillions of bees buzzing under her skin.

She gives him a measured nod in agreement.

“What about you? Any reservations?”

“Hah, nope. You can do pretty much whatever the hell you want. And now that we’ve cleared all that up - “he shifts his weight on one arm as he pries hers away from his chest and guides their joint hands down to his cock.” I believe ... we’ve talked about you not being intimidated by the size of my cock. Here, take it. “ He is practically spooning her hand from below as he prods her to touch and feel and measure his penis. “You think you can handle it? Because all of this will go into your pretty pussy. Here,” he furrows his eyebrows. “Hmmm, I think you can take it if you’re wet enough.”

Her heart hammers so hard, it is a smaller miracle she is still breathing.

Her breathing sounds ragged. Her lips part to say something and rebuff his semi-sceptic words with something smart, just to wipe that smug look off his face. Instead, she whimpers. She wants him to fuck her whichever way, of course, she is too desperate for him, but she wasn’t kidding when she told him she wanted him to ravage her like a wild animal.

“Hush, now. I need to make you ready before I take you from behind. You want my cock, aren’t you? You want to swallow it up to the hilt, yeah?”

“Uh-huh,” she pants. She wants to defy him and say just give it to her already, they are wasting time, but. 

“It’s our first time, baby. I will hurt you if I don’t get you ready.“ 

He is right. His cock is a monstrosity, both in length and girth. It feels heavy in her palm as she keeps her fingers around it, squeezing and releasing the pressure, then squeezing him again; her excitement flares further when his muscles there expand and push against her hold. 

He is gonna stretch her so good. She loves his cock already.

His fingers are working at her entrance again since he mentioned getting her ready. He doesn’t push them inside however, it’s clear that the next thing that enters her is going to be his cock. 

She agrees in theory but she is so wound up - thanks to the way he looks at her and touches her, or to the heat that is radiating off him and enveloping both of them - that she can hardly contain herself anymore. She squirms under him. She lifts her hips in search for something more, if only he weren’t so strong. 

His fingers leave her slit, and he pushes her back to the sheets with the same hand.

“Clarke,” he warns. “Let me get you ready first.” His voice is laced with authority, dark and unyielding, which does nothing to soothe her need.

“I’m ready. Fuck me.”

His dark eyes narrow at her, his nose flares.

“If you’re here to do what I say-“

“I’m not your slave, Clarke, don’t forget that.”

That otherworldly tone to his voice is back. It’s a warning. He looks dangerous.

She is not afraid of him, it just she doesn’t want the incident to sour the mood. Not now. 

“I know that. But I cannot wait any longer. _Please._ I don’t need a condom. I trust you.”

Judging by the way his face changes from the angered expression of a son of a war god to relieved, almost soft, that was the right thing to say. 

He nods. “Okay.”

And without further warning he pushes into her, making her gasp loudly. He wasn’t lying about the stretch. He is big. It feels like being split in half and he is not even halfway in.

She breathes through her mouth, and arches her back, pushing her ass more into the sheets as he slides a hand just under her waist bones, holding her, angling her. She makes sure to push her breast out and give him a show as a way of incentive as his cock pulls out and pushes into her in a rhythm. She needs more.

It seems to work.

“Fuck,” he groans. “You’re a little minx aren’t you? Look at you. So hungry for my cock.”

His palm remains flat under her lower back but his other wonders to her chest and kneads them roughly, occasionally rolling a nipple between his thumb and forefinger.

She whimpers.

“Does that hurt, sweet thing?”

She shakes her head, unable to speak yet.

He huffs out a laugh, tapping her left thigh twice slightly, before spooning it under his arm and pushing her foot from the bed to his shoulder, effectively changing the angle. She shudders at the feel of his cock hitting her just right. 

She moans and he grunts in unison.

They talk. Sort of.

“Love your cock, _‘s_ doing amazing things to me.”

“That’s it. See? You’re taking my cock so well. Soon, you can take it all, baby.”

“Yes, yes. I will take it. All of it. Give it to me.”

“Oh, I will, sweet thing. I will. Wouldn’t dare to stop if you asked.”

 _“‘S_ feels so good.”

“Your pussy is so tight - wish you could see how desperately it takes my cock. How desperately it clings to it as I pull out.

“Fuck. You’re so wet, baby. I need to taste you.”

He keeps his punishing rhythm as he slips two fingers between her folds to gather some of her juices. He is taking his time. He slips his fingers under her clit, moving against his dick inside her, giving her an extra stimulation she takes happily. He lets his fingers linger. When he deems to have them covered well enough he pulls them away and sucks them into his mouth.

He groans. Eyes flaring up for a moment with the flames. 

_“Mmmmmm,_ baby. You’re delicious, so sweet. I gotta taste you from the source, too.”

 _“Bellamy,”_ she moans his name in response but also to get his attention.” B - Bellamy - I need to come - please - I need -“

“I know what you need, Clarke. Soon. Soon, I’m gonna turn you over and fuck you from behind. How about that, huh? You on your hands and knees, taking me. Taking all of me.”

 _“Uh-huh._ I need - I need -“ 

She is talking gibberish. The things he makes her feel... Or the things he’s telling her... it’s insanely hot, to say the least. She feels like a goddess of sex, which she’s never thought she was honestly; she is good, better than average, but she never felt worshipped like this, not even when she had good sex with her exes.

Finn never made her feel this way.

Bellamy’s words on the other hand ... combined with his punishing rhythm and the heat ... she is so close to coming, _so close_ to losing control; it’s a blessing and a curse.

“You needed this, didn’t you, sweetheart? You needed a good fucking. Don’t you? Let me give that to you. Let me fuck you right.”

She almost comes on the spot, but then he pulls out completely, leaving her clenching around nothing and empty. It hurts. It feels like losing a limb, something that used to belong to her.

“No! No no no _nononononono_.”

He rolls her over and under him, shushing her, palm flat on her stomach and she scrambles up on her hands and knees.

He gathers her hair in one hand, pulling slightly as if to test the waters. She whimpers when he bites down on her shoulder. The bite stings, but in a good way. His teeth are probably going to leave a mark, telling the world she is his, and his alone.

He pulls on her hair tighter, it actually makes her cry out, and then, he’s back on her, radiating heat and whispering those filthy things into her ear.

“You were right, I already love this position.”

She thinks maybe he enjoys it way too much. It’s in the way he keeps pulling on her hair to hurt her, but at the same time pressing wet kisses and small love bites on her back. And it’s not until later she notices his fingers are back at her entrance, making her beg for more, preparing her for his massive cock.

She might be a little impatient because she wiggles her hips, pushing her entrance against his erection for emphasis.

“Bellamy.”

He lets her hair go, and pushes down on her shoulder blades and enters her. 

She sucks in a deep breath in her surprise. He chuckles.

“Feels better now, isn’t it? I know it feels amazing for me. Your pussy is so wet it’s easy to push in, do you feel it?”

She nods and hums.

“And when I do this -“ he pulls out slightly,” - _oh, Clarke,_ I wish you could see what I see, it’s mesmerizing.”

His voice is loaded with a lot of things. Darkness. Lust. Awe.

“Tell - me -“ she pants, enjoying the way his cock moves in and out of her, stretching her in a very delicious way, and still making her crave for more. 

“You wanna know? Say it.“

“Yes,” her voice is ragged.

He slams his hips into hers which makes her cry out, but he puts a soothing hand on her head, petting her hair, as he starts pulling out excruciatingly slow, gathering her hair again and swiping it to the side. 

“When I do this, “he says, voice deep and hoarse,” your pussy clings to my cock, fighting so desperately for something to hold onto. “

She lets out a breathy moan. “Fuck. I can feel it.”

He slams his hips back and retreats, exactly like he demonstrated before, watching shamelessly as her pussy fights to hold his cock in a vice. 

“Is it all in? Bellamy, please. I have to know - did I swallow your cock all the way? I feel so full - but - uh - I need to know if -“

He grunts. “All of me, baby.”

She smiles, and heaves a sigh in relief, as he shakes with a chuckle. 

When his grunts turn quicker and louder, she knows he, too, is getting close.

“Fuck, Clarke. Wish we could drag this out longer but seeing your hungry pussy getting impaled on my cock -“ he whistles appreciatively and suddenly she feels very overwhelmed.

His sinful words feel like another hand all over her body, with a direct line to that sweet spot inside her, and that all-consuming feeling that is building inside her steadily feels impossible to stop. She doesn’t, she’s too greedy. She lets herself tip over the edge and she clenches around him, shaking with the tremors as her orgasm peaks.

She has barely enough strength left to push her ass harder into him, flipping a switch because she feels him exploding a moment later inside her, and he’s spurting his thick cum in waves that feels like never wants to ebb.

She ends up lying on her stomach, with him on top of her as their breathing gets back to normal and she feels his cock soften a little before he pushes himself up on his elbows and pulls out of her. She is so full of his come, she can feel it trickle out of her, down the insides of her thighs. 

Immortal blood apparently also means a massive amount of love juice. Interesting. 

She doesn’t have much time to recover either. Although he lifted his body off of her, soon, she feels his heavy palms back on her shoulders and he pushes her head down so that her hips are elevated higher in the air.

She turns her head to the side, as much as his hand allows her, searching for him. He watches her heatedly for a bit, before he dives down, pressing his mouth on her shoulder blades, then moves lower and lower on her spine. She is in bliss, maybe that’s why she realizes belatedly what he is about to do. Because he is not done yet, oh no, not even close.

“Wait.”

“Don’t worry about it. My treat.”

His fingers open her pussy lips and his lips descend on her clit, pressing a kiss there. She’s a trembling mass in a matter of minutes as his tongue slips between her folds and he licks and licks and licks her, and she sees stars.

And then, he drinks from her. 

*

When she comes to, she is on her back. He is right next to her but he lies on his back, with an arm under his head.

He looks ... peaceful. The position lets her examine his face more thoroughly, so she is mapping some of the freckles dusting his cheeks and his nose, and cataloguing the way his hair curls around his temples.

He is the one to break the silence first.

“Penny for your thoughts.” 

“I am a fan of your cock.” She pokes her tongue out through her lips. It makes him laugh. “Your turn.”

“I love your pussy. And your tits. And your - no, I love every fucking thing about your body.”

She chuckles lightly. “Thanks, I guess, you’re not too bad yourself.”

 _“Clarke,_ you forget I sense your deepest desires. And now I know you’re lying to me. I know you find me the most attractive man alive.”

“So. Uh, you _are_ truly a demon, huh?”

He turns his head and raises an eyebrow in question and lets the flames flare in his eyes and around him.

“Believe me know?”

“Oh, I did believe you before already. But - she sighs, “I have so many questions!”

He presses his lips together, before the strain disappears from his face, leaving behind smooth skin.

“You can ask them.”

“You’re a demon. So you could have summoned yourself into my bedroom, right?”

He hums in agreement, “I could have.”

“So why didn’t you?”

“Because - I didn’t want to impose on you like that. Not when you were so vulnerable, it wouldn’t have been polite. It- “he starts to tell her more but he stops himself.

She flushes. It’s not even logical at this point, he has seen her naked. Not when he made her come three times already.

“And showing up at my door looking like that? Is not imposing? “

He arches an eyebrow at her in question. “What do you mean?”

“You know - looking tall, dark and handsome and dangerous.”

“I can take many forms, Clarke. But this - “he gestures to himself, and Clarke knowing no shame lets her eyes sweep over his toned muscles and naked body,” - _this_ _skin_ is the skin I was born into. I thought this skin would serve you and you only and your desires the most.”

So that means ... he could appear as _Shawn Mendes_ if he wanted to? But he chose his true form for her. She’s touched by the thought. Her voice breaks a little as she answers.

“Good choice.”

A beat.

“How did I even summon you?”

“You really don’t know?”

She shakes her head.

“You chanted ‘ _Fuck Finn Collins, honestly_ ’ three times, naked.”

She sits up suddenly. “No way. No. Way. I didn’t know! How is that even a thing?”

“Well,“ he ducks his head as if to hide a smile. She loves seeing his smile. His smile, not the grin or the smirk for the show but his genuine smile. It makes him more approachable to a human, it makes him look more open. More exposed. More like the real him. “It was hard not to listen when you were practically screaming _for me.”_

She feels herself blush, just thinking about her tantrum from earlier.

“Don’t feel embarrassed, _love_. Look at me,” he pleads, voice turning soft as he speaks. He brings a finger under her chin, tapping lightly. Making her look at him. “I’m sure he deserved it.”

She doesn’t answer, though she hopes her silence is answer enough. 

“Do you regret it?”

“Cursing Finn’s name? Never.”

She knows that’s not what he was referring to when he asked if she had regrets. She could pretend she misunderstood. She could let this question fade away and wait and see if he brings it up again. That’s not what Clarke wants, though.

“Having sex with a demon - _with you,_ Bellamy- - “ She lets it hang in the air for a little while longer. How can she explain this? She wants him to understand what it means to her. “You know your dick is amazing, you sure know how to use your cock and please a woman. After having felt it inside me - - you did this amazing thing to me - - at the same time, I felt like you can break me, split me in half. But, in a good way.”

“Huh. I will take that as a compliment from you.”

“It is!” She protests. “It’s just - “ she wants to ask _‘It would be good to know how much of it was real’._ He’s a demon. He fucks desperate people like her, who are crying out for help for charity. But she doesn’t ask, her question is too loaded. Instead, she tells him something else, which is a different version of the truth, but true regardless.“ I wouldn’t mind doing this with you some other time. Maybe - - try out a few things.”

His cheeks stretch as his face lights up with a grin. “Now you know the spell.”

Clarke bristles. “Ugh, no offence, I don’t want to think of my ex when I’m desperately horny and want to get fucked. By you. Can’t I just chant _‘Fuck me, Bellamy, fuck me hard’_? I’ll be naked, of course. Three times?”

His eyes grow pitch black and a part of his demon self is back, manifesting through the form of the burning flames in his eyes. She thinks it’s his arousal showing, too. How fitting. The fire.

“You’ll never know unless you try,” he teases, his voice sounds already hoarse and suggestive. But the way he says those words; it also sounds like a plea.

She cups his face in her hands, looking directly into those flames. _“Fuck me, Bellamy, fuck me hard.”_

She moves a hand down onto his already half-hard cock, repeats it twice, as her hands work him. Under her steady ministrations, his cock is fully erect in no time. God, _he’s huge._

She smiles to herself. And she can fit him inside completely.

“Look at that,” he coos, moving them. His trademark, lecherous grin is back along with the faint halo of crackling fire as he hovers over her, covering her body with his. Her body is burning, thanks to him. “It works.”

Excellent. Before they part, she needs a healthy dose of him.

“Now. Come, sweet thing. Hop on top of me. Show me those pretty tits jiggling. I’ve been dying to see you like this - feel your weight on top of me. Your tits in my face, where they belong. Lick them raw as you ride me. As you take what you need.”

She doesn’t need more prodding to fuck him. She rides him facing him first, then flings a leg over his stomach and switches her position into reverse rider and pushes back down against him hard. His hands are all over her body. Flat on her stomach. On her pussy. Working her clit. Holding onto her neck or pulling on her hair, as he whispers dirty little things to her; telling her in a very explicit way how much he loves being in her tight pussy or fondle her breasts. He tells her, he’d like her to breastfeed him once as if he were a baby, whilst he fucks up into her or fingers her cunt.

She fucks him so hard that the headboard of the bed is hitting the wall repeatedly; she thinks the paint from the wall, even on the other side, will fall off. She’ll have some explaining to do to the neighbours.

But when Bellamy fucks into her so deeply and roughly that she sees stars, and as he spends himself decidedly in her, filling her up - that’s all she thinks about. 

All fleeting embarrassment about the noise, or the ruined a walls is nothing. Having Bellamy fuck her, and fucking Bellamy in return makes everything worth it. 

It’s a good thing she knows a spell.

***

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> A/N. 
> 
> When I posted this story, I was so hyped and excited about certain details, naively hoping that at least a few others would find them enjoyable and/or interesting. But, then I posted and even a month later it felt like lots of people clicked on this story but found it not worthy of leaving any kind of tangible feeback, which made it impossible for me to know what you liked (if liked anything?), or disliked (was it that horrible to read?) ... anything to keep my spirits up. I felt like a failure and I was so close to deleting this story.
> 
> I’d like to express my gratitude to **M** ❤️ and **Nicki** 💙 who kept me on my feet and encouraged me writing and sharing this even without reading. Who kept telling me to always focus on the positive side of things and think about those readers (whatever the number may be, one or ten, or more) who enjoyed this story.
> 
> Special thanks to **Miss_Fortune** who commented at my lowest and her thoughtful words have had a huge part in me keeping this story here in full length. Thank you 💕
> 
> And finally, thank you for those amazing readers who read and liked my words, despite everything.


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